


The Next Level

by Kamitsure



Category: the maze runner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamitsure/pseuds/Kamitsure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in the Glade is harsh, worse than anything you could ever imagine. It's a little difficult for a group of teenage boys to live in a secluded prison like maze, and of course, what's one thing teenage boys want? Finally, after days and days of nothing, Thomas gets what he wants with Minho, his fellow runner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Level

Minho was just fuming, and he was refusing to talk to Thomas. Thomas just said quietly, “Are you gonna cool it?” in a voice of venom. It was only natural. The two of them were, you could say, friends, but in the place they lived in and the things going on around them, these teenagers didn’t exactly have time for friends. Minho was a big tough guy and Thomas was just getting fed up with everyone else’s crap. Everyone seemed to be bugging him lately, and usually, Minho didn’t. But today, he was. Maybe that was what defined a friendship in the Glade; not getting on each other’s nerves.

It was like a prison, and alas, it was just as horrible a time. Surprising, no. Repetitive, yes. Minho and Thomas ran around for hours and just nothing seemed to pop up. Just that same pattern that the Maze changes the set every so often. But there were no exits and there was no purpose, it seemed.

Today, Thomas had gotten them into big trouble. He had forgotten to eat his sandwich, so he had to pause and eat it at a much later time. A time when the Grievers showed up more often. Vile beasts, they were. He wanted to just kill them, slaughter them, as impossible as it seemed.

But in the middle of his sandwich eating, Grievers charged him and Minho. As they were caught off guard and began running, Thomas tripped, dropped his bag, and Minho had to stop him from getting it. They turned and ran, and Thomas, looking back, saw one of the Grievers slow-not stop- to envelop it, tear it apart, and spit it out behind it. The came back early today.

Alby and the others were quite surprised, but it didn’t come with any consequence, seeing as the Runners had their own plans and could easily lie about something.

Minho slammed down his backpack and said, “No, Thomas, I’m not gonna ‘cool it’! Slim it!”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “I did nothing wrong but here you are, being a shank about it!” 

Really, he didn’t do anything wrong. They got out alive, right?

Minho looked at him, a furious look on his face. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, and worse, gotten me killed!” He was shouting, and luckily the Gladers wouldn’t be able to hear it through the thick wall of the Runner’s small building.

Thomas opened his mouth to say something but Minho continued, “I don’t want to feel that worry or panic again!”

It was quiet, and Minho was breathing very heavily, but definitely cooling down. Thomas was surprised, so it took a few minutes for him to get out, “Thanks.”

Minho rubbed his face and Thomas leaned up against the wall. It was awkwardly silent for a moment, because now it was clear that Minho did worry about Thomas. More than others...Thomas wanted that more than anything, especially in this hellhole of a maze, Glade, whatever. He sighed, and Minho stood. Minho looked at him, but he wasn’t looking back. He was in a trance, his eyes glued to his shoes.

He walked over silently, and said, “Don’t tell anyone this or you’re wasted.”

Thomas looked up, out of the trance, and noticed that Minho had come a little too close for comfort. At least, for Minho. Thomas wanted him closer, of course. The air seemed to get thicker when Minho put his hand on the wall next to Thomas and moved closer. “Tell anyone what-”

Minho grabbed Thomas’ arms roughly and his face met with the boy’s, also roughly. Thomas just took as much as he could, tightening his fists and kissing Minho back as much as he could.

Minho pulled back, and they both just stared at each other for a bit. Thomas smiled a smile he hadn’t for the first time in a very, very, long time. Minho smiled too, and Thomas wanted to giggle at Minho’s laugh lines.

Minho pulled him in again, this time wrapping his large hands around Thomas’ waist. Thomas wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck, and after a long moment of rough kissing, Minho picked him up and laid him on the table, swiping off the dirty maps. Thomas laughed nervously as Minho’s and his hips grinded. He groped at the nape of Minho’s shirt, so he pulled that off and then his own.

As he slowly grinded on him, Thomas kissed and bit Minho’s neck. Thomas felt both of their cocks hardening as they rubbed against each other. Minho groaned, and Thomas made a tired sound of happiness when Minho pulled back. Minho unzipped his pants and then his partner’s. Completely naked, Thomas wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck again and looked down at the swollen member greeting his own. It was huge.

Minho’s large hand wrapped around Thomas’s length and began softly pleasuring him. Thomas started off by moaning lightly, but as Minho grew faster and rougher, he was almost yelling in pleasure.

Minho stopped, and Thomas gasped. Minho pushed Thomas’s legs apart and got to his knees, his head now at the same height as the table. With one hand he pushed back Thomas’ legs, and with the other, he pushed up his raw, blushing rocket.

Minho moved in, and his tongue slid lightly across Thomas’ skin. Thomas leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and moaned. Minho’s tongue wriggled this way and that, and began pushing in. Thomas and Minho slowly began a rhythm where Minho pushed in with his tongue while Thomas pushed his hips towards Minho.

Minho spit, and using his thumb, he rubbed the glob of spit around Thomas’ tight hole. He got back up on his feet, and raised his eyebrows at Thomas. Thomas cried out as Minho slowly pushed in, then out, then in again. It was slow, like before, and then it increased as Minho began thrusting with the force of all that muscle harder and faster.

Thomas was crying out in pain. It burned, and it was a burn that wouldn’t go away; more and more pain was being added on with each thrust. Finally, Minho pulled himself out and sighed, rubbing his own cock. Thomas sort of wanted to cry, but he needed to be strong so he held it in. Minho crawled on top of him on the table, his own member in Thomas’ face. He stared at Thomas’ shaft as he rubbed it, making it hard again. He slid his own mouth around it, while Thomas was already sucking Minho’s. It went on for awhile, before Thomas choked on Minho’s thick, 8 inch dick, and as he spluttered he moaned loudly.

Oozy liquid splashed up on Minho’s face. He wiped it all off and then proceeded to lick his hand clean. He changed position so he was above Thomas, and the boy continued sucking the huge cock. Minho squeezed his eyes shut, and held Thomas’ head while he thrust in and in and in. Each time he felt the twirling pleasure come closer, and finally, he cried out-in a manly way- as his white fluid spurted out on Thomas. Gasping for breath, he leaned in and licked Thomas’ face before kissing him.

His breathing was very heavy, and so was Thomas’. Thomas hid his face in his hands, thinking about the consequence. Would it be awkward between them? Would they only enjoy each other for sex? It was too soon and too fast. It bothered him. When he sat up, Minho was sliding into his shirt, already clothed. He said, “Better get dressed before the other Runners sprint in here.” He threw Thomas’ pants at him, laughed, and left.


End file.
